Tafadzwa Matamba (Zimbabwe)

In her womb the seed became life.
The nights of sweet vicious kicks
That jerked her off tender dreams of girlhood!
Unknowingly biting the hand feeding me.
Nine months passed like summer lightning_
The labour pains came and passed_
Piercings screams from mother and child.
How on your back l clung, unaware!
I suckled from your perennial milk fountain.
Those songs that you sang for me
During my golden days of old_
I still sing them up to today.
And oh how l feel so good!